


As Long As They Don't Touch

by ZarryFTZouis



Series: Chrissy's Oneshots [28]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Epilogue, M/M, Mile High Club, Narry - Freeform, Rimming, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarryFTZouis/pseuds/ZarryFTZouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partie Deux pour "Can't What Heart Won't."</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As They Don't Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Title after "Treacherous" by Taylor Swift. I SHIP KAYLOR SO HARD, IS THAT NORMAL?

Niall knows that he’s been distant ever since they started college. He can’t tell Harry that Breslin has some sort of hold over him, and he wants to protect Harry.

“Harry,” Niall blacked out after the prenup. “I have to do this.”

“No you don’t, angel,” Harry’s eyes burn fiercely. “I heard your parents talking… they mentioned the name Breslin.”

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Niall looks down, unable to meet his fiancé’s gaze. “My parents are into investments and Breslin is the most successful entrepreneur in Ireland.”

“Run away and marry me,” Harry sounds dead serious. “Zayn can send us the money to hitch on a flight somewhere.”

“Zayn sent me thirty for our little prenup…” Niall knows that money should go towards his college fund. “Do you want to go to the Caribbean?”

“Sure, but I get to kiss ye first,” Niall giggles, pressing his lips to Harry’s. The kiss grows heatedly easily, their lips moulding together perfectly in a messy way. Niall’s hand find its way to Harry’s curls, tugging at the long strands. Harry moans at the contact, letting Niall climb on top of his delectable body. Niall is rarely dominant during their lovemaking but tonight should be different.

“Gonna top me like I’m your bitch?” Harry smirks, his green eyes darker than the usual leaf-green. “You’re too submissive.”

“Am I?” Niall grinds down against Harry’s growing bulge, both of them moaning from the pleasurable friction.

They soon get rid of their clothes and Niall has the condom rolled over his length. He rubs the lube over his shaft, the sight of scented lube dripping out of Harry’s hole more erotic than it should be. One hand on Harry’s waist, and other pushing in, Harry moans loudly. Niall doesn’t have to ask Harry—then again, it’s stupid to—that he’s found his fiancé’s soft spot so he goes on, ploughing into the same spot. He doesn’t have to wank Harry for him to jet all over his chest.

“Messy,” Niall giggles, pulling out and knotting the condom so the fluids don’t spill out. “I should top more often.”

“You just want to hear my bottom moans,” Harry rolls his eyes, using the tissue on the bedside table to wipe himself clean. “I do have nice moans.”

“The best part is,” Niall whispers like it’s a secret, “Zayn and Louis are in the guest room right below us.”

-

“I can’t believe you two,” Zayn growls at his best friends at the breakfast bar. “I mean, when we were living together in _my_ house, I was okay with you two horndogs going at it 24/7 but I don’t fucking live with you anymore! I don’t have to hear how Harry sounds like when his ass is being drilled!”

Harry and Niall both giggle and Louis has the decency to hide it with a cough.

“Bitch,” Zayn huffs, drowning his Coco Puffs with half-cream, half-milk _abomination_. “Louis, I won’t fuck you in my private jet.”

“It’s okay, we already had the mile high club on the way here,” Louis pouts, giving Zayn the bedroom eyes. “So, does Niall top only for special occasions?”

Harry notices the way Louis says the last word is French, not English.

“Well, I’m a very dominant person,” Harry defends himself, which Niall scoffs at. “DON’T, NIALL JAMES HORAN.”

“The first time we had sex, it was my birthday and he took two dick inside his arse,” Niall grins triumphantly. “I shan’t say the third party’s name because he will kill me if I do.”

“What, was it Zayn?” Louis laughs at his suggestion but Harry and Niall blanches.

“Seriously?” Louis looks like he’s about to burst into tears and Zayn is quick to pull the petit lad into his arms. “I was–”

“We were fourteen and high on pot,” Zayn kisses the top of Louis’ head. “And I was also on painkillers because I sprained my wrist.”

“Oh.”

 

Niall watches Zayn dragging Louis away as Harry pokes him with his fork. Niall snaps at Harry but the Langley-native just smiles beguilingly.

“We can try kitchen food sex,” Harry whispers seductively. “We have bacons and waffles.”

-

**March 2015**

“Zayn is a dick,” Harry huffs, looking at the Instagram picture the said lad just posted. “He visited the place they shot _The Fault In Our Stars_!”

“You’re such a fan girl,” Niall rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about that shite.”

“You cried more than Louis while watching that movie and Louis is the dramatic one,” Harry points out; Niall shushes him with a kiss.

“Zayn is finishing up his template quite quickly,” Harry tells his fiancé. “He was taking night classes in his grade 11 and 12 years.”

“Why didn’t _we_ do that?” Niall huffs.

“Because we were ‘ _too busy shoving tongues down each other’s throats to realise anything else’_ , Zayn’s words, not mine,” Harry taps his baby’s-bum-smooth chin. He has a baby face and he doesn’t mind admitting it. “So, when are we setting off to the Caribbean?”

“As soon as I’m done with the spring semester,” Niall rolls his eyes. Harry got hired as a songwriter after his YouTube video of his original song _Broken Shadows_ went viral. “Are you even going t’ bother finishing your college education?”

“There are things far more important than education, Niall James,” Harry boops Niall on the nose. “So, are you in the mood to kiss me or cuddle with me?”

“Why can’t I choose both?” Niall pouts, akin to what Harry does when his Harribos are taken from him.

“Because I’m too lazy to,” Harry sticks his tongue out.  

“I’ll do all the works,” is the only warning Harry gets before Niall straddles him against the very fluffy sofa they’re sitting on, his back hitting the armrest. He giggles, letting Niall curl up against him as Niall presses a very wet kiss to his cheek. Harry puts his hand on Niall, his small of his back, to be precise, and Niall relaxes into the touch. They’re always like this, bantering like old married couple, then cuddling like newborn kittens.

“ _Is brae liom tu_ ,” Niall whispers in Irish-Gaelic, the words that are so endearing to Harry. “So much.”

“Can you say something other than ‘I love you’ in your language?” Harry nudges their noses together.

“ _Pog mo_ ,” Niall grins wide, looking like a child with a new set of _Polly Pocket_.

“I always kiss you so try something else.”

 _“Pos mog,”_ Niall says after a while, making Harry scrunch his nose up. That’s something he hasn’t heard before.

“Yes?” Harry isn’t sure what he said yes to.

“Good,” Niall giggles, pulling Harry in for a kiss. “Now, we should go to Paris for our sixth year anniversary.”

“The big six,” Harry tries and fails at not rolling his eyes.

-

Niall gets Harry to ride him on the flight to Paris and Harry rims him in turn.

“Fuck, your tongue,” Niall moans, clawing at the armrest of the seat. They’re on the private jet Zayn has lent them. “So—fuck.”

Harry continues to kitten-lick at Niall’s slippery hole until the blond releases into the seat without being touched.

“So responsive,” Harry giggles, wiping his mouth.

 _“We’re starting to land so please fasten your seatbelts,”_ the announcer goes on and Harry giggles.

“Perfect timing.”

 

The French translator Zayn was kind enough to hire for Niall and Harry had a Scottish accent that was hidden by his posh Warwickshire one.

“So,” he looks younger than Harry to Niall. “I owe Zayn for that six-thousand tip he gave me for my college tuition couple years ago and I came here for pastries... anyways, _bienvenue à Paris!”_

“Been here once,” Niall muses mostly to himself. “Then again, I was only three years old.”

“Tips are much appreciated for reserving the most renowned restaurant in Paris for _l’epous_ —I mean, _on y va_.”

Niall wants to hit his translator for almost slipping the words.

The tour of Paris goes well and of course they go the Louvres. Connor shoots him an apologetic glance before leading them towards where Mona Lisa lies.

“She looks scary,” Harry cocks his head to the side. “Like, just look at her, that smile is one of a mass murderer.”

“Is he always like this?” Connor doesn’t bother lowering his voice. “He is… imaginative.”

“Trust me, he should have been born a Pisces,” Niall represses the urge to tell how colourful their sex life is. “So, you’re a Scot?”

“My parents were. I was born in Scotland but I grew up in Warwick,” Connor exaggerates his Scottish accent. “No hard feelings between our countries?”

“Why do you work as a translator in Paris?”

“Oh, I came here for baking like I said, but I really like it here and French was easy to learn,” Niall detects the Scottish accent when Connor says ‘earn’. He doesn’t tell the translator that he failed French in year 10 and never took it again.

-

Harry flops onto the hotel bed, knowing Niall just rolled his eyes. He buries his face into the fluffy pillows and inhales the floral scent.

“Mm, 5-star hotels are the best,” Harry rubs his nose against the white silk pillows. “Does Zayn actually live like this?”

“He moved to a _smaller_ house now that we’re gone,” Niall shrugs. “So, what kinky stuff shall we do now?”

“Naked spooning, I’m tired,” Harry yawns like a newborn kitten, then shucks his clothes off.

 

Next thing Harry knows is that he somehow fell asleep and there’s a naked, sleeping Niall atop his own body. He scoots down until his face is level with Niall’s morning wood and gives the underside vein a long lick. Niall groans in his sleep but doesn’t wake up so Harry continues with his work. He jabs at Niall’s perineum with a forefinger, his thumb on the heavy sac. Niall whines this time, one hand tugging at Harry’s hair instinctively. He grins, finally wrapping his lips around Niall’s length—the entirety from the get-go. Niall chooses now to wake up, thrusting his hips into Harry’s awaiting mouth. He nulls his gag reflex and lets Niall fuck his mouth.

“Morning to you too,” Niall moans out in a fucked out way as he gushes down Harry’s throat.

-

It’s the last day in Paris and Harry knows that Niall is hiding something from him.

Well, Connor is acting suspicious too so he knows something’s up.

“We have to go to the Versailles!” Niall tugs Harry, both dressed in black slacks and black shirts. (Harry’s read ‘His Kitten’ whilst Niall’s read ‘His Leprechaun’)

Harry’s jaw drops to the floor when he sees what’s been waiting for him, what this whole trip to Paris was all about.

The entire front yard of the Palace has white roll-on carpet, the lacy stuff connecting the column that look either Greek or Roman. There are red rose petals and _Thinking Out Loud_ by Ed Sheeran is on. Niall leads the tear-soaked Harry to the inside and Harry is shocked even more.

Harry’s family is there, and so’s Greg, Niall’s brother. Zayn is standing where the priest should be and Louis looks so smug in front of the mic for the MC.

“I know you were expectin’ somethin’ else but this is all I can afford—Zayn can—for now. Harry Edward Styles, I’ve been dreamin’ abou’ marryin’ ye in France for years and now’s our chance.”

Niall walks down the aisle whilst Niall waits with Greg on the other end.

-

**(I have no idea what the fuck you say at the wedding, I’M SORRY)**

**Fifteen years later**

“Isobel Katherine Horan and Jacob Kol Horan!” Harry screeches at their twin children when he discovers that his lube has been replaced with something sticky. “How dare you!”

“But Papa!” Isobel, who everyone calls Kat because she likes her middle name more. “It was Jake’s idea!”

“What kind of an older sister are you?” Jacob growls at his sister. “But she used her birthday money on the liquid glue!”

Harry wraps a blanket around his waist and goes to the twins, who are literally on the ground laughing.

“You two are grounded and Jacob?” Jacob’s green eyes—green like Harry’s—falter a bit. “You can’t see Jawaad for next two months.”

“There’s something called a school,” Jacob rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, Papa.”

Niall and Harry decided to do a surrogate using Harry’s sperm (they may have ‘sampled’ the sperm themselves) and eight and half months later, the twins were born on March 15th. Zayn and Louis already had their son, Jawaad Niall-Edwards Malik-Tomlinson for two years. Their children—all three of them—grew up together and it wasn’t a surprise that Jawaad and Jake grew close to each other. Jawaad, who inherited Zayn’s black curls and hazel eyes, (“And the charms!” Zayn insists whenever they talk about it) just straight out told the four best friends. Harry knew already because he saw those two boys kissing when they were nine and wanted to know what a kiss was.

Harry became the most famous Canadian-born Irish singer (it was a pain in the ass for the curly haired boy to understand really thick Irish brogues but he decided to stay in Ireland with Niall) in the pop-rock genre. He didn’t really want to become a singer but the record company said all songwriters try it, so. Niall became an Irish-Gaelic teacher at University of Dublin. Zayn got the company from his father and Louis? He became the sassiest housewife.

 _“Is brea liom tu,”_ Niall and Harry whisper to each other every night before falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Note as of very late at night on March 6th: I forgot that I was going to use Sam Smith lyrics for this oneshot's title so tell you what, I shall write a Zarry version of this (Zouis, not Narry, soz) and use the title I intended to for this one.


End file.
